


Me and the Devil

by nemo_r



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nemo_r/pseuds/nemo_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets from an abandoned AU involving Charley being in denial about how hot he finds a) Jerry and b) the fact Jerry is a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Me and the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Written pre-movie (which is why the OOCness)

"You get used to it. Hand me that."

Charlie passes the wrench over and moves back to lean against the wall.

"It was weird at first," Jerry continues.

"When was that? At first."

Jerry glances at him, then crouches down by the bike. "When do you think?

"When?" He shrugs, leaning back against the fence. "I dunno man you're a..." he trails off. Jerry glances up, quirking one eyebrow, a slight smirk playing around his lips. Charlie feels his cheeks tingle and grow hot. "A, vampire." He can't stop his voice from dropping a little and now that's definitely a smirk. Damn it. "It could be any time, any time before the last uh, thirty years."

"Thirty?" Jerry asks, turning back.

"Yeah, I think, man I dunno, you're old but not, like, _old_ , old. "

"Oh?" he asks without turning. The curve of his back is broad and pale, stretching out the ribbed lines of his top.

"Not, like, parents old," Charlie backtracks.

"But I'm old."

"No, but you're..." Then he sees Jerry's shoulders are shaking. "Fuck, yes of course you're old, you're a fucking vampire, you..." His words are tangled up in his frustration and Jerry's _laughing_ at him.

"Well when, when was it?" He demands when his cheeks have stopped burning.

"You ask a lot of questions." Jerry still doesn't look up from where he's fiddling with the bike.

"That a problem?" Charlie asks, jerking his chin up despite the fact Jerry's not looking at him.

""No, just..." There's a pause as Jerry gives the screw a final twist, then he rocks back on his heels and looks up at Charlie from under his dark brows. "Just making an observation."

"Yeah, well, you don't answer a lot of questions. There's another observation for you."

He shrugs. "Everyone's got secrets."

"Yeah, and your secret is you're a fucking vampire."

"You've got secrets too."

"I don't."

"Sure you do," Jerry stands, stretching out, his t-shirt riding up to show the pale smoothness of his stomach. "Everyone does."

"I- I don't though," Charley swallows, dragging his gaze up. "I-"

Jerry moves faster than he can track, pushing Charley flat against the wall and he's right there, right fucking there in front of him, knocking his knee to the side and sliding his leg in between Charley's. He can feel the scratch of the bricks against his back, Jerry solid and cool in front of him, arms enclosing him on either side. He leans in even closer and it's like he's pushed out all the air, his body blocking the light from the street lamps, casting Charley inside his shadow. Charley shivers, from the street you probably couldn't even see him, his smaller shape entirely hidden by Jerry's bulk, the solidity of his muscles. Jerry's hand slips down from the wall to his shoulder and Charley jumps. Looking up, Jerry's teeth look sharp against his lips.

Charley breathes shallow hitching breaths. He wants, he doesn't. He doesn't have secrets. _Don't make me say it_. "I have a girlfriend," he says, and his voice is thin and weak.

Jerry raises one sharp eyebrow and flexes his hand on Charley's shoulder, pinning him under his cool palm. Jerry's eyes are really fucking dark. Charley can feel the drag deep in his chest, pulling him towards him, and there's no space between them now, each inhale just presses him tighter against Jerry, just makes it clearer that Jerry's chest isn't moving. Charley's legs aren't keeping him up, Jerry's all hard planes and muscles and the stone breadth of his thigh between his legs. If he'd just slide it an inch to the side, just another inch. Charley shivers, wanting to move but pinned too securely and he doesn't know if he wants to run away, or fall right in. He can't breathe, can't remember what they were talking about.

"Like I said," Jerry says, voice low and rough. "Everyone's got secrets."

Then he's moving away and Charley just sags against the wall, panting. After a second he slides down into a messy crouch. He lets his head thump back and stars at the dark sky, willing the air to cool him down.

* * *

"You kill people. People. Like, families?"

"Do you care?"

"Well, yeah."

"Really?"

"Families?"

"Families are easier, no one to place the missing persons notice."

"But, the cops..."

"Move out of town before it gets too obvious."

"But the kills match up with when you arrived."

"Not exactly, always time it slightly off, best to tie it to someone else."

Charley picks at the label on the beer. "Wouldn't it be easier in a big city?"

"Sure, but it's soulless. There's no fun."

"Fun," he says, deadpan.

"Killing is boring, mindless, better to know the people you're going to kill. More respect."

"Respect?"

"Yeah, respect, my parrot."

"Fuck you, I don't understand."

Jerry leans forward. "You remember them." He reaches for Charley's hand. "You take their blood into you." He turns it over, and softly, with his index finger, traces the blue vein that crosses the underside of Charley's wrist. "They die for you," he says softly. Then, relaxing back, he lets Charley's hand slip from his fingers. The tingly, silky sensation lingers in Charley's skin.

"You should respect that. It's a gift."

Charley swallows thickly, and it takes him a minute to think back to speaking. "Not a gift." He shakes his head, dragging his gaze from his wrist and looking up at Jerry. He drops his hand to his lap, and rubs his palm against his jeans. He can still feel Jerry's phantom touch. "It's not a gift," he said again. "It's stolen."

"No." Jerry shakes his head. "That's what you're not getting. I never take."

"I don't-"

Jerry moves in again, eyes heavy lidded and magnetic. Charley's heart jumps in his chest. Jerry's face is only inches away, and his finger this time tracing down from behind Charley's jaw along the line of his neck. He can feel his pulse jumping under the pad of Jerry's fingertip.

"They want me to take it. They want it." Charley swallows, feeling Jerry's finger shift over his skin. The air is so hot, thick and almost choking. His eyes fall shut, and he's just waiting, just, holding still for when Jerry...

Lips on his skin, silky soft, warm and wet. Tiny, soft kisses along the line of his neck.

Then Jerry's drawing back, turning away, and Charley doesn't want him to go, doesn't want to stop. He lunges forwards, catches Jerry's mouth in a kiss and propels them both backwards, Jerry, despite his strength, lets Charley bear him down onto his back on the couch. Charley moans hungrily into his mouth. Jerry brings his hand up to skim across Charley's back, and settle at the base of his spine, smoothing up under the hem of his shirt.


End file.
